


New Day

by PFL (msmoat)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3122930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoat/pseuds/PFL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of "happy new year" greetings through the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Weekly Obbo prompt of "new year" on the LJ community teaandswissroll.

“Happy new year, Ray.”

Doyle turned his head to see Lucy looking at him with something like clarity in her blue-eyed gaze. It wouldn’t last long, with the drug already working its way through her system. “Yeah.” He held her a little closer, then kissed her briefly. “Happy new year.” 

She smiled sweetly, and he could almost believe in the love and faith she professed, but it was for the dealer she thought he was, and for the drug. The party swung on around them as they sat on the sofa. It would be over soon for all of them. This bust had been three months in the making. She tucked her head against his shoulder, one hand clenching his shirt. Would she have a new year? Would she take the opportunity of the bust to free herself from the drug and the violence and the degradation that was her life? Would she find herself again? He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, because he already knew the answer. There were sudden bangs on the door, shouts, a few screams. He ignored it all. His role was finished. It didn’t feel like a win.

Tomorrow, he would be gone, well out of it. This was his last case. Maybe in CI5 he could find himself again.

*

oooOOOooo

*

“Happy new year.”

Doyle stared into the eyes of his killer. Bound and injured, he had no chance to defend himself, no hope— He flinched at the sound of the gun shot, but realised immediately that he wasn’t the one who had been shot. Carter fell to the floor next to Doyle, his gun slid until it hit the wall.

“Idiot.”

Doyle closed his eyes briefly. Bodie. The rush of relief was followed immediately by irritation. He’d never hear the end of this, would he? Bloody CI5. Bloody ‘partner’ who thought he was better than anyone else.

“I thought it was only in the movies they took the time to talk too much to people they’re about to kill. Are you okay, Ray?”

He blinked at the sudden change in Bodie’s tone of voice, then the urgency of the op reasserted itself in his brain. “Untie me,” he growled against the tape across his mouth.

Bodie seemed to understand him. “All right, all right, hang on.” Bodie suddenly grinned as he pulled out his Swiss army knife. “Not that you’ve got any choice in the matter. Into bondage, are you?” He cut the tape binding Doyle’s arms and legs, then ripped the tape off Doyle’s mouth.

“Ow! Bloody— Frasier and his men are next door. Wait!” He reached out to grab Bodie’s arm, but Bodie had moved too quickly for him, already heading for the door. Doyle hissed against the pain from the beating he’d taken, along with the bullet wound that had been his downfall in the first place. “They’ll come this way.”

Bodie’s face was hard. “You’re in no shape—“

“I can shoot. I can be bait.”

Bodie nodded. He retrieved Carter’s gun, handed it Doyle, then helped him get on to his one good leg. “You’ll do,” Bodie said.

Doyle was surprised at the surge of satisfaction he felt at Bodie’s approval. Then they heard men approaching and there was no time for anything but action. It was good to be alive and fighting. Together. With Bodie by his side, he knew he’d win.

*

oooOOOooo

*

“Happy new year.”

Doyle looked down to see Bodie looking up at him. He thought he could see pain in the blue eyes, but at least they were clear in the morning light. No fever. Yet. “I thought you were asleep.”

“With all that racket going on? I’m going to complain to…management.” The sounds the gulls made nearly drowned Bodie’s voice out.

“Yeah, well, you do that, mate.” Doyle shifted a little beneath Bodie’s weight. It felt like his legs were asleep, which he supposed was probably for the best. “Make it as loud as you can, eh?” 

“No one to hear us.” Bodie turned his head, and Doyle followed his gaze to the men who lay in the sand near them. Dead and useless, but at least there would be no bombs to mar the day for other people.

A thought struck Doyle. “Happy anniversary, you mean.”

It took Bodie a little while to reply. “Anniversary?”

“Yeah. It’s New Year’s Eve, right?” He frowned. “Or is it day? Anyway, five years ago tonight—or tomorrow—I decided to keep you as a partner.”

“Oh you did, did you?” Bodie’s snort was reassuring. “Hang on…five years ago, I rescued _you_.”

“Exactly. You proved yourself.”

“‘You’ll save me,’ eh”?” 

“Yeah.” But he couldn’t save Bodie now unless that last signal had, somehow, got through. He couldn’t move himself, much less Bodie. The sun was up, so there was a chance they’d be found on the beach. But they were already chilled to the bone, and Bodie had lost blood, despite his best efforts to stop it.

“Didn’t do badly, did we?”

He couldn’t help himself, he held him a little closer, but he made sure none of the emotion he was feeling reached his voice. Bodie didn’t like ‘scenes’. “We’re Cowley’s best.”

“Don’t…care about that,” Bodie said.

“What, you? Competitive sod that—”

“’S you. Only you.”

Doyle’s throat tightened. “Bodie?” He could barely force sound out. There was no reply. It couldn’t end like this! Not like this—nothing to fight, just waiting, victory snatched from them. _No._ He eased Bodie to the sand, checked and tightened the make-shift bandage. He’d managed to make it to the two terrorists earlier and had taken their jackets to help keep them warm. He tucked these around Bodie, then eyed the path up the cliff. He’d never make it all the way. But if he could just make it far enough for the bloody R/T to work again. He had to try. He couldn’t get to his feet, there was nothing he could use as a crutch, but he could drag himself along, so he did. He blocked out the pain, focused only on the objective, and Bodie’s voice: _’S you. Only you._

Each time he stopped, he checked the R/T, although he was anxious about the batteries as well. No joy. He kept going. He had to fight for Bodie, as Bodie would fight for him. Don’t stop. Don’t fail. Keep going. Save him. Save him. You bastard, Bodie, you bastard! Telling me now… Oh, Christ. Oh, God, please. Save him. He couldn’t go on. He had to go on. He had to. Had to. Had to. He was at the…crest? He pressed the R/T button. “Four-five.”

“Doyle! Where are you, man? Four-five, come in!”

“Beach…”

*

oooOOOooo

*

“Happy new year, Bodie.”

Bodie opened his eyes, then pulled Doyle down to kiss him. “Already said that last night.”

“It bears repeating. Anyway, a year ago, they told me you’d live.”

Bodie smiled. He traced Doyle’s cheekbone with his thumb. “And then you kissed me in hospital.”

Doyle smiled. “Yeah.”

“Got us both yelled at, kicked out—”

“Reassigned.”

“The injuries would’ve done that.”

“Regrets?”

“Oh, yeah, all the time. Every day.”

“Thought so.” Doyle kissed him. He’d hoped to find himself when he’d joined CI5. He’d found Bodie. Together, they’d find their future.

The End  
January 2015


End file.
